


i want to be forgiven (i want to choke up chunks of my own sins)

by if_in_another_life



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: An AU idea I can't get out of my head, Canon Divergent, Catra (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Catra (She-Ra)-centric, F/F, How Do I Tag, Minor Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Post S5E3, Self-Reflection, literally been keeping me up at night
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:15:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24766048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/if_in_another_life/pseuds/if_in_another_life
Summary: But despite all of that, Adora had listened to her. Somehow that was the craziest part of all of this, in Catra's mind. Here she was, at the mercy of a vicious dictator that had left a universe trembling in fear in his wake. But all she could do once there were no tears left to shed, was laugh, because Adora had listened to her.Catra had rescued Glimmer, and saved Adora.Because there was no mistaking it, the scouts had reported the Etherian ship was flying towards Etheria.-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------A minor AU considering what might've happened had Adora not gone back for Catra on Prime's ship.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 88





	i want to be forgiven (i want to choke up chunks of my own sins)

Catra couldn't help the sensation blossoming in her chest at the sight of the dot drifting further and further away.

Despite the fear that was threatening to creep and crawl and slide its way up her spine and ooze around her brain and suffocate her. The fear of what Prime would do to her now that she _really_ was useless to him, despite the wild speculative visions that danced around her mind at the forms of punishment and torture she could be subject to.

Catra _laughed_.

She looked Prime dead in those emotionless, soulless green eyes, the eyes that perfectly reflected the sickening ' _purification_ ' pool that he had not-so-subtly threatened Catra with, and laughed _._ She was positively _relishing_ the inkling of confusion that she could decipher behind Prime's attempted mask of coolness.

Because if anyone was a master of masks, it was _Catra_. So she threw on her own and laughed.

Her body shook in its restraints as she laughed, and laughed, and _laughed_. Until it was borderline _maniacal_. Until her stomach ached just as much as the knees that Prime had kept her knelt on, for so long. Until her abs were as sore as the wrists locked firmly in Prime's high-tech handcuffs.

 _“Everyone has a place in my empire,”_ Prime had sneered at her, gently but threateningly cupping her chin in his hand. _“You will be of use to me yet.”_

Catra had no sense of how long ago he had uttered that thinly veiled threat, knelt before a universal dictator with nothing but thoughts, and memories, and possibilities.

But it didn’t matter what Prime could, and _would_ , do to her when she was no longer of use to him. He’d _never_ get his hands on Adora.

Because his scouts had picked up the Etherian ship.

Despite the crippling fear that tickled and pricked at the corners of her consciousness that she was fighting to keep at bay, _pride_ managed to blindside Catra and catch her so off guard her only options were to laugh or cry. 

And laugh she could, as Catra had already shed her tears, as she fruitlessly attempted to wrestle out of Prime's clones grips as they dragged her in for judgement. To be placed at the feet of Prime, and made to wait until Prime could decipher _She-Ra's_ plan.

Memories had flooded her mind as her body slowly acknowledged the fact she wouldn't be able to squirm out of the horrifically tight holds the clones had, and certainly not the handcuffs they had placed just before dragging her to Prime's feet.

Visions of the strange ritual she and Adora had fallen into after Adora had left the Horde. Had left her. _Left_ Catra, but not _abandoned_ her.

Because despite all of the smart words they threw at each other, they couldn't seem to slip out of the routine they had when they were on the _same_ side.

Images of all the times they sparred together as cadets, where they'd spend seventy per cent of it jibing at each other rather than jabbing. Where punches and scratches left ice packs and little plasters. Where they'd shared soft looks that had held and lingered for just a little bit too long, full of friendship and _promise_. To stick together through thick and thin.

Except they _weren't_ on the same side anymore. Where the words _weren't_ just banter between two best friends, they were words laden with all the heartbreaking weight of betrayal, mistakes, and misunderstandings. Where their punches and scratches now left bruises, and blood, and _scars_. Where their looks were filled with pain and _rage_.

Because of all the punches and sword swings Adora had thrown in Catra's direction, the one that had held the most weight was the look of _hatred_ she had stabbed Catra with after destroying the portal. Because _Catra_ had worn her patience thin. Had pushed Adora too far.

It had taken Catra up to this point, with all those memories flying around her head, to come to a mind-numbing conclusion.

Adora had never _abandoned_ her because she had still kept up _their_ ritual, still stepped back into that chaotic song and dance that Catra had clung to. _Relied_ on.

But Catra had made _far_ too many mistakes. Mistakes that had torn a rift between her and Adora that couldn't be salvaged. 

Not even Adora, the only person Catra had ever truly relied on, had ever truly trusted, had ever truly _loved_ , would see that it was all just a front. 

All her actions were a mask to hide the horrible truth that Shadow Weaver had drilled into her for as long as she could remember.

That Catra would never be good enough.

Not for Shadow Weaver. Not for Hordak.

Not for Adora. And certainly not for Adora's love.

And so Catra _had_ cried. For all the _wrongs_ that she would never get the chance to put right. For the friendship she had thrown away, torn up and destroyed. Cried for all the pain and anguish she had caused.

Cried for her unrequited love.

 _But despite all of that,_ Adora had _listened_ to her. Somehow that was the craziest part of all of this, in Catra's mind. Here she was, at the mercy of a vicious dictator that had left a _universe_ trembling in fear in his wake. But all she could do once there were no tears left to shed, was _laugh_ , because _Adora had listened to her_.

Catra had rescued Glimmer, and _saved_ Adora.

Because there was no mistaking it, the scouts had reported the Etherian ship was flying towards _Etheria_. Confirmed when their radar was broadcasted onto Prime's screen.

Catra's heterochromatic eyes watched the signal with equal horror and delight. 

The signal that meant Adora was _safe_.

The signal that Catra was _doomed_. But Catra couldn't find it in herself to care about what would become of her, as long as Adora was safe.

_"Do one good thing in your life!"_

In that moment, Catra couldn't help but recall the words Glimmer had cried at her in the cell, the memory causing a cocky smirk to slip across Catra's lips.

 _'Only one, Sparkles?'_ Catra thought. ' _Cos I'm counting rescuing you as one, and protecting Adora as two.'_

Because that was what her emotional breakdown had left bare in her soul. Prime's words taking their turn to echo in her mind.

 _"And yet you seek to protect her,"_ he had crooned.

 _"Nothing really bad can happen as long as we have each other,"_ Adora had promised her, what felt like a lifetime ago.

And regardless of what had happened between them since. No matter how many mistakes Catra made, how many poor decisions _she_ made in her incessant need to prove that _Adora_ had made the wrong one by choosing to defect. To fill the gap that Adora had left in the Horde and in her heart.

She had _finally_ uncovered what it was she _actually_ needed to do to feel remotely worthy, because it had always been there, buried under all self-doubt, under all the betrayal, under all the hurt.

What Catra _needed_ to do, was protect Adora.

It was then that Prime swivelled around in his chair, disrupting her thoughts. It was then that she found the confusion and the rage behind his cool exterior. Behind _his_ mask.

Catra could've tried a hundred times over in that situation, and not _once_ would she be able to resist the way her face transformed, as she seamlessly placed her own mask on. 

Her cocky smirk transformed into something _vicious,_ something _victorious_.

"You _miscalculated_ ," Catra hissed with a concoction of venom and pride, tilting her head back and body upright to reflect the emotion flooding all of her senses.

And Catra laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> I literally binged watched the entire show when S5 dropped and it's been on my mind ever since, and I couldn't shake this idea. Always incredibly nervous stepping into a new show for fanfiction so please let me know what you think.


End file.
